


Things Hurt a Little Bit Less With You

by MoustachedPanda



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: -ish??, A little bit of everything, Angst, Darius wasn't a good man my dudes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Octopath Traveler Spoilers, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Team as Family, alfyn is a baby boy with too many feelings, big-time team as family in this thing, but nothing too crazy, might be some violence but i'll put warnings if it's intense, possible making out??, therion also has too many feelings but doesn't like them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoustachedPanda/pseuds/MoustachedPanda
Summary: "Therion, I-"The blonde apothecary opened his mouth and closed it again, grasping for words."I... want to see you happy. You helped me in Saintsbridge, heck you helped me all the way back in Goldshore...! And now... I want to help you."His cheeks reddened as he took a deep breath in through his nose."I care about you, Therion. A lot. So please... Please. Let me help you now."





	Things Hurt a Little Bit Less With You

**Author's Note:**

> Octopath has absolutely ruined me and I care very deeply for all of the characters. I don't know how many chapters this will be but I think it'll go on for a while at least.  
> There's some canon dialogue sprinkled in at certain points, but everything is pretty much my own.  
> Therion and Alfyn are gonna be the main ship but there's going to be some background stuff because I have the power to do what I want haha

Arriving in Saintsbridge had been a long awaited endeavor for the group that Therion had found himself in. It had been far too long since either he or his companions had gotten to sleep the night away in a warm bed, and Therion was absolutely done with waking up with a sore body. A bedroll was good enough for a night or two of travelling, but when Therion and the others had been making their way to Saintsbridge for at least a week and several days, Therion found himself wanting to tear the thin mass of fabric into pieces and throw it into one of the rivers the group had passed in the Riverlands.

 

Of course, it had been far longer away from a bed than it had _needed_  to be. Had the merry little band Therion was traveling with used _common sense_  and stopped for a night in the small village of Clearbrook to refresh and replenish, it would only have been several days without comfort. However, one of Therion’s companions, Alfyn Greengrass, heavily opposed the idea.

 

_“I can’t go back to Clearbrook until I’ve taken care of what I need to do. I can’t face Zeph again just yet, and I ain’t too keen on stoppin' in my hometown when there’s still work to be done and when I know there’s other apothecaries like Vanessa Hysel out there. I need to do the best I can to help people who need it, because there’s always a chance that no one else will.”_

Therion had wanted to fight against Alfyn’s logic, but he found himself unable to. Why? If he had spoken up, he would have gotten a bed for at least one night, and he wouldn’t be so miserable now. But something about Alfyn’s face had just… stopped him. Therion had been travelling with Alfyn for a long while now, and Therion could say with near one hundred percent positivity that he had never seen the apothecary look so serious. Serious wasn’t a word that often applied to Alfyn Greengrass, and Therion found himself keeping his mouth shut, as did the other six travelers who had been listening to Alfyn’s reasoning.

 

And so the group had continued on, trekking through the Riverlands and increasing the length of time since they had slept in a bed. It had been since Quarrycrest that Therion had gotten a good night’s rest, and he could tell that it had dampened the mood of the other travelers as well.

 

Tressa had begun complaining about five days into the journey between Quarrycrest and Saintsbridge with things like, “I’m gonna be crippled by the time I turn twenty if I keep sleeping on the ground!” or “What’s Ali gonna say when I get to the Merchants Fair and I’m hunchbacked?”. This was fairly commonplace for Tressa when the group was travelling between cities and towns, and Therion had decided to try to ignore her.

 

Cyrus had been nearly nonstop spouting random knowledge about the foliage of an area, or about how he knew some obscure fact pertaining to a ruin they passed. It seemed like Olberic and Ophilia were the only ones who were even occasionally listening to him, Ophilia in actual interest and Olberic in attempts to humor the scholar.

 

Like Therion, H’aanit and Primrose were quiet as usual through the journey, sometimes adding a couple of words to a group conversation but nothing more. If the two women were conversing, it was mostly between themselves. Therion wasn’t quite sure what H’aanit and Primrose’s relationship was, but he was acutely aware of how Primrose smiled at H’aanit in a different way than she did for any of the others. Therion had a talent of observing others, and he knew that Primrose and H’aanit had something special, but he wasn’t one to pry.

 

And then there was Alfyn.

 

Ever since Alfyn had met Vanessa Hysel in Goldshore, something about the apothecary had been off, and Therion had noticed it quickly. Hysel had been an eye-opening experience for Alfyn - a wake-up call that reality wasn’t always blue skies and bright flowers and nice apothecaries. Alfyn had been forced to realize that there were people like him who could heal others, but unlike Alfyn, would only do it for a price. Alfyn had trouble understanding _why_ this was, and it seemed he couldn’t grasp why people needed to be greedy when they could simply help others from the good of their hearts. Even after circling all of Orsterra, Alfyn still seemed puzzled over his encounter with Hysel.

 

It honestly surprised Therion, too. It had been several _months_  since Alfyn had met Hysel in Goldshore. Between then and now, the group had stopped in Stonegard for Cyrus and H’aanit, had added Ophilia to their numbers in Flamesgrace, taken a pit stop in Noblecourt for Therion, had trekked to Stillsnow for H’aanit and Primrose, fought a _tournament_  in Victor’s Hollow for Olberic, and now had saved the people of Quarrycrest for Tressa. Therion was honestly fairly amazed that Alfyn was _still_ taken by Hysel’s actions after so much had happened, and he would be lying if he said that Alfyn’s diminished behavior wasn’t starting to drive him nuts. Therion had taken so long to get _used_ to Alfyn’s jovial nature, and once he _had_ gotten used to it, Alfyn was suddenly down in the dumps, making Therion feel like his effort had been wasted.

 

Therion was knocked out of his thoughts by a large hand thumping against his shoulder. Therion glanced up and was relieved to see that the hand belonged to Olberic.

 

“Are you okay, Therion? You seemed lost in thought.”

 

Therion sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m good. Think I’m spacing out from the lack of good sleep. Bedrolls for a week and a couple of days will do that to you, I imagine.”

 

Olberic chuckled slightly before giving Therion’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Therion was usually opposed to physical contact, but for some reason it was okay with Olberic. Therion chalked it up to the fact that Olberic was the oldest member of their party and almost always felt like the group chaperone. He was a father figure of sorts, although Therion would never admit it to Olberic and likely never even acknowledge that he had admitted it to himself.

 

“Well, if you’re done ‘spacing out’, I believe the group was going to split to find lodging for the night and procure provisions for the road. Ophilia needs to perform the kindling tomorrow, and I’m sure Alfyn will want to see if there is anyone in need in this town. We all need to get proper rest soon after that long trek.”

 

Therion nodded in agreement. “Sounds fair. I could do with some _actual_ sleep. I’m not dramatic by any means but if I spend another night on the ground I might just die.”

 

“Not dramatic, he says.” Olberic laughed and gave Therion’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Primrose, H’aanit, Ophilia and I will go find lodging and somewhere for us to eat tonight. If you may, can you go with the other three to buy whatever we need?”

 

“Sure thing, Ser Olberic. Good luck with the whole bed situation, and don’t be afraid to spend some leaves on some _really_ soft blankets.”

 

Therion smirked slightly as Olberic let out another chuckle before turning to catch up with his group. Therion did the same himself and looked around before spotting Alfyn’s head above others in the sparsely crowded residential area of Saintsbridge. Therion always forgot just how _tall_ Alfyn was until Therion needed to find him in a crowd and suddenly Alfyn was a blonde beacon, easy to spot and a good waypoint for keeping the group together.

 

Therion jogged over to the apothecary and was greeted with a smile.

 

“Glad you could join us, Therion. Tressa says we need to stock up lots, but I think that you three can handle that. I’m gonna run ‘round and see if I can’t find anybody who needs a bit of help.”

 

Therion raised an eyebrow. “Not alone you aren’t, Medicine Man. Remember, Olberic hammered into all of our heads that we can never go anywhere alone after Cyrus got kidnapped in Stonegard. It’s safer if there’s at least two of us together.”

 

Alfyn sighed and crossed his arms. “I’ll be fine, Therion! There might be someone who needs help right now, and I can’t expect you to come with me while Cyrus and Tressa are doin’ the heavy-liftin’ all on their own.”

 

Tressa (who Therion _swore_ wasn’t as close to Alfyn and himself a moment ago) jumped into the conversation upon hearing her name.

 

“Alfyn, let Therion go with you if you’re gonna be persistent. Cyrus and I will be fine, honestly!” Tressa leaned in to whisper her next sentence. “The most dangerous thing I’m gonna encounter shopping with Cyrus is his history lectures. And other than that, if we _do_ buy so much stuff that we can’t carry it then we’ll just have the shop hold it while we find Olberic and H’aanit.”

 

Alfyn rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “You sure, Tress? I don’t wanna be a burden, but I really gotta see if anybody here needs my help. I can honestly go on my own if it’s easier for you.”

 

Cyrus strode over to Therion and the other two and gave Alfyn a quizzical smile.

 

“We will be just fine, Alfyn! As Therion was saying, Olberic did make it abundantly clear that we all must work in pairs after my, ah… blunder in Stonegard." The scholor reddened slightly, likely remembering how angry and worried Olberic had been in Stonegard. "You needn’t worry about Tressa and I. Instead, worry about the people who may need help in this town, and have good luck in your endeavors.”

 

Therion gave Cyrus a quick thumbs up, a “Thanks, Teach”, and a wave to both the scholar and Tressa as he began dragging Alfyn away before he could retaliate to Cyrus.

 

“Therion, I’ll be just fine on my own, really! You should help Cyrus and Tress--”

 

“Oh shush, Medicine Man.” Therion cut Alfyn off with his own words. “You know the rules. Olberic would lose his mind if one of us went missing again, and we can’t really afford to risk anything. Just let me meander around with you so that we don’t face the wrath of the Unbending Blade.”

 

Alfyn sighed and folded his hands over his chest. “Fine, fine. I feel bad, but if its Olberic’s anger we’re talkin’ about… I appreciate you comin’ along. Cyrus was a good enough example of what a worried warrior of Hornburg could be like.” Therion almost laughed upon catching Alfyn shuddering from the thought.

 

Therion burrowed his chin into his scarf and fell into step beside the taller man. “Lead the way then. I don’t know how to look for people needing an apothecary, so I’ll just follow and nod politely when I need to." Therion grinned and looked up at Alfyn's face with a devilish smile. "Might pick a few pockets too but there’s no need for us to focus on that.”

 

Alfyn gently hit Therion’s back in a joking manner. “Don’t you dare! We’re helpin’ people, not robbin’ them blind!”

 

Therion laughed and let his lips fall into a sly smirk as he jabbed a finger into the taller man’s chest. “Correction: _You’re_ helping people. _I’m_ absolutely robbing them.”

 

Alfyn grumbled and put a fake pout on his lips.

 

“Can’t believe I’m travellin’ with such a monster.”

 

Therion rolled his eyes jokingly and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his poncho. He hated to admit it, but he had undeniably gotten used to Alfyn’s presence as time had passed, and the fact that Hysel continued to plague the apothecary’s mind was almost hurtful to Therion. It wasn’t fair that someone as cheerful as Alfyn had to have his joy diminished by someone with nefarious goals.

 

Therion frowned and began opening his mouth to ask how Alfyn had been dealing with Hysel when he slammed into the taller man’s back.

 

“Oof- Alfyn, what the hell?”

 

He braced a hand on Alfyn’s arm to steady himself before looking up at Alfyn’s face. Therion followed Alfyn’s line of sight and saw what had him staring.

 

There was a slender man adorned in red cape laying upon the ground, blood pooling below him. There was also a second man who was cloaked in black standing above the bleeding man. Judging by the cloaked man’s satchel, Therion reached the conclusion that Alfyn had likely already reached: the man was an apothecary. Unlike Alfyn, however, the man seemed to be ignoring the injured body below him.

 

The cloaked man frowned and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked upon the man on the ground. “Your life isn’t worth saving.”

 

Therion felt Alfyn stiffen under his touch. He knew immediately that this encounter was going to be like everything had been in Goldshore with Hysel. Alfyn was faced once again with someone who shared his profession, yet this person, like Hysel, seemed to follow a corrupt moral compass in their endeavors.

 

The man on the ground shuddered and opened his eyes wide. “W-wait! Have some mercy! Ye can’t just leave a man to die!”

 

Therion grunted as the apothecary beside him broke from his grasp and approached the cloaked man.

 

“Hold it, hold it, hold it! You’re an apothecary, ain’t ya? How can you leave a man you examined to suffer?”

 

The cloaked man glanced at Alfyn before sighing.

 

“And who in the hells are you?”

 

Alfyn crossed his arms and held firm against the man. “Name’s Alfyn. And despite appearances, I’m a travellin' apothecary myself.”

 

The man chuckled and met Alfyn’s glare. “A fellow druggist, is it? Well, listen up - I’m a free man, with the right to choose my patients.”

 

“What does _that_ mean?”

 

The cloaked man pressed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “It means what I just said. Some lives aren’t worth saving.”

 

Alfyn’s eyes widened, and before he could retaliate, the man turned and walked deeper into the town, shoulders squared and moving with an air of finality.

 

Therion ran up beside Alfyn and watched as the man walked away. Therion glanced behind himself and Alfyn and frowned as he caught sight of the wounded man on the ground a short distance away. Alfyn grumbled and watched as the man disappeared into the small crowds.

 

“Who does that jackass think he is?” It was clear that Alfyn was talking more to himself than to Therion when he spoke, his voice dripping with both anger and confusion.

 

Therion reached up and placed a hand on Alfyn’s shoulder, shaking him out of his stupor. “I dunno, Medicine Man. But that guy that he left behind isn’t looking too hot.”

 

Alfyn registered Therion's words and quickly turned to look at the man on the ground.

 

The man reached out towards Alfyn and spoke fervently. “Y-yer an apothecary too, ye said?”

 

Alfyn nodded as he began walking towards the man. “Sure am. And one who doesn’t discriminate when it comes to those in need. Let me see that wound of yours.”

 

Alfyn kneeled beside the man and examined the wound before rummaging through his satchel. He quickly pulled out a needle and fishing wire as well before getting to work on giving the wound a rudimentary stitch. Alfyn then procured a small container full of a salve that Therion didn’t recognize, and gently applied it to the top of the stitching. 

 

The man winced at the process but grit his teeth and stayed still. “M-much obliged.”

 

Alfyn flashed the man a smile before closing the container of salve and putting it and the needle back into his satchel. He stood up and dusted off his knees.

 

“You’re lucky I showed up when I did. That should give you a fightin’ chance.” Alfyn crossed his arms and frowned slightly. “But you ain’t out of the woods yet. You’ll need plenty of rest ‘til it heals up.”

 

With gentle movements, Alfyn reached down and grabbed the man’s hand, pulling him up until he was standing and resting against Alfyn's side. “Lean on me, all right?”

 

The man did as he was told and let Alfyn support his weight, wincing every few seconds as he got used to standing. “Ye said yer name was Alfyn, yeah? Yer far too kind.”

 

Alfyn grinned and Therion felt his heart clench slightly. Alfyn always gave his patients that same smile: a smile of hope and of relief that he was able to do something to help. It was a smile that Therion hadn’t seen in at least a few weeks, and he hated to admit that he had almost missed it.

 

“No need to thank me, I’m just doin’ my job.”

 

The man smiled wearily at Alfyn. “Well, I’m thankin’ ye anyways. Ye really saved me. I’m Miguel, by the way. Might be important fer an apothecary to know ‘is patient’s name, aye?”

 

Alfyn laughed slightly. “Absolutely! Glad I could be of help to you, Miguel.” Alfyn quickly moved his focus to Therion and gave him a small smile. “Mind helpin’ me get Miguel here back to his house, Therion? That way I don’t have to carry as much and I can also make sure _you_ don’t go doing anything that would ruin our good name.”

 

Therion sighed and swerved his way over to the opposite side of Miguel, gently bracing the man’s arm over his shoulder. “When have I _ever_  done anything to ruin our good name? I’m an absolute angel, Medicine Man.”

 

Alfyn rolled his eyes and laughed, and Therion couldn’t help but be aware that it was the happiest he had seen Alfyn in a while. He was likely still thinking about the other apothecary who had refused to treat Miguel, but Alfyn was likely more focused on his patient's well-being at the moment.

 

Therion shifted his gaze to Miguel’s face, studying the man's features. He was all bones, his face pointy and angled, and there was a large scar that ran jaggedly over his left eye. Therion was surprised from the scar, and sucked in a quiet breath. He knew all too well what a scar like that felt like, and he found himself almost pitying the man. Therion let out the breath through his teeth and opted to ask Miguel a question to break the silence. “Where’s your house at anyways, Miguel?”

 

Miguel pointed using the hand that was wrapped around Therion’s shoulder. “It’s just up that way. Right outside of the main entrance to Upstream Saintsbridge.”

 

Therion nodded, forcing the image of the scar out of his head, and rolled his shoulders as the three slowly made their way toward the house. “All right then. C’mon, Alfyn. Let’s get this guy home and then we can meet up with the others.”

 

Alfyn hummed in agreement before glancing at Therion. “We might have to stay here for a day longer than expected. I want to keep an eye on Miguel until he’s healed enough to be okay without an apothecary helpin’ him. Is that… okay? I know you need to get to Wellspring and the others have their own business elsewhere…”

 

Therion shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve waited this long to get to Wellspring, I can wait a bit longer. I think everyone will be fine waiting an extra day, so don’t worry about it.”

 

Miguel let out an intrigued hum as he listened. “I take it ye fellas are travellin’ around with a group?”

 

Therion nodded curtly, not keen on sharing too much info with a stranger, even if he was Alfyn’s patient. “Basically. Safety in numbers and all, you probably know how it is.”

 

The redhead smirked slightly. “Aye, I s’pose I do. I’m glad ye and yer little group got here when ye did, then.”

 

Therion saw Alfyn smile slightly at Miguel’s words. Soon enough, the three men were entering a shoddy shack. It wasn’t particularly something Therion would be proud to call _home_ , but the thief had also stayed in worse places. Therion mentally reprimanded himself for thinking about unwanted things as he helped Alfyn gently set Miguel down upon a worn bedroll.

 

“Don’t you dare go overexertin’ yourself! I’ll be back later with some food, and I'll check up on you at the same time. But until then, move around as little as possible. Heck, sleep the day away if you want, but remember not to move much. Doctor’s orders!”

 

Miguel chuckled at Alfyn’s words. “Aye, aye, thank ye, Alfyn. Ye as well… Therion, right? I ‘preciate what ye’ve done fer me today, the both of ye. I’ll see you later when ye come to visit, Alfyn.”

 

Alfyn grinned and said his goodbyes to the man before heading to the exit of the shack. Therion muttered a quick “See ya” before following Alfyn and leaving Miguel to his rest.

 

“He seems nice enough to me. I still can’t understand why that other apothecary refused to help him!”

 

Therion shrugged and began walking ahead of Alfyn. “I couldn’t tell you, Medicine Man, but you don’t need to think about it now. I, for one, am _starving_. And I would like to find the others.” He smirked slightly. “We can’t let Tressa suffer to Cyrus’ tangents for too long, now.”

 

Alfyn laughed and nodded in agreement. “Didn’t realize it before, but I’ve worked up quite an appetite as well. Wanna hit the tavern and grab some food before we look for the others?”

 

Before Therion could even answer, Alfyn was walking off towards Upstream Saintsbridge with a smile on his face, obviously pulled along by the idea of food and likely drink as well.

 

Therion jogged a few paces to catch up and walk beside the taller man. “I was going to say ‘ _sure, Alfyn, sounds great!’_ but you seem to not need my answer.”

 

Alfyn let out a hearty laugh and wrapped an arm around Therion’s shoulders, pulling him along as he walked. “I figured you were gonna say yes - although not quite so energetically, mind you. Here, I’ll make it up to ya. First round of drinks is on me!”

 

Therion rolled his eyes and escaped from Alfyn's hold before smiling slightly. "Whatever you say, Medicine Man. Lead the way."


End file.
